Never Forget
by SqueakyTheDuck
Summary: A 9/11 tribute fic. Chapter 2 up. R&R. Each chapter purposely written to have 911 words.
1. The Reunion

_Decided to take a break from 'I Will Carry You' and "Babysitting' to write a 9/11 tribute. Hope you like it._

A sweltering day in late August of 2001 saw six men attending a reunion in Los Angeles. The men were, as follows: Retired Chief Hank Stanley, retired Captain Mike Stoker, Captain Marco Lopez, Engineer Chet Kelly, and Captains John Gage and Roy DeSoto.

Hank and Mike were the first to arrive at Station 51. "Cap." Mike grinned upon seeing his old captain once again. Hank laughed as he embraced his old comrade. His men had never gotten out of the old habit of calling him 'Cap'.

When he had first been promoted to Chief it had bugged him to hear them refer to him as 'Cap', but now, having not seen his men for over five years, he gladly welcomed the old nickname.

"Hey, Mike." Hank said. "It's good to see you again. Where the heck is everyone else?" he asked. "They should have been here ten minutes ago."

"Cap," Mike pointed out. "Did you ever know those guys to get to anything on time?"

Hank chuckled. "No, I guess not. I can tell you where they are though." he speculated. "Chet is probably scrambling across a parking lot somewhere near here, trying to find his car, having just realized he's late."

"Most likely Marco is with him." Mike put in.

"Right," Hank agreed. "And Johnny is probably trying to finish up some last minute repairs on his car, and he's most likely dragged Roy into the project. Roy is probably standing next to the car, pointing out that they're late."

"And Johnny is under the car," Mike put in. "Insisting that he's 'almost got it'."

"And Roy has probably just called a cab." Cap finished.

The two men spent the next half hour catching up on things and exchanging stories. Finally they heard the sound of car motors outside. Moments later Johnny, Roy, Chet and Marco entered the room.

"Sorry we're late." Marco was the first to offer an apology. "Chet forgot that the reunion was today and we spent ten minutes searching the parking lot for his car."

"Yeah," Roy put in. "And Johnny was working on _his _car, trying to fix the transmission. I had to call a cab."

"I almost had it." Johnny grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

The four late firefighters would never know why their former coworkers laughed so hard.

Greetings were exchanged and the stories began to flow. "Hey Gage remember that day I got you with like four water bombs in one day?" Chet grinned.

"Yeah, I remember." Johnny replied with a laugh. "I also remember that you got what was comin' to ya!"

"I let you win that one!" Chet insisted.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Just like old times, huh, Cap?" Mike stage-whispered to Hank.

"You said it, Michael." Hank answered with a laugh. "Those two are as immature now as they were 25 years ago."

"Hey Chet," Marco said slyly, interrupting Johnny and Chet's argument. "Why don't you tell them what you've been doing since you got promoted."

"Driving the rig." Chet replied evasively.

"Get this." Marco said to the others "Chet spent years trying to make engineer. Well he finally got promoted three years ago, and he hates it. Ever since then he's been pranking his captain to try and get demoted back to hosejockey."

This drew a laugh from the others—except Chet. "Who _is _his captain anyway?" Hank asked.

"Me." Marco replied.

"You're kiddin'!" Hank exclaimed incredulously. "_You're _his captain?"

Marco nodded. "Yeah, I like it, too."

"Only since he became wise to my tricks." Chet grumbled.

This banter continued throughout the day, with Johnny, Roy, Chet and Marco swapping stories about recent goings-on at their stations. Mike and Hank remained quiet for most of this time.

"Whatsa matter, guys?" Johnny quipped. "Feelin' left out 'cause you're both retired now?"

"Haven't you ever heard?" Hank said adamantly. "Firefighters never retire. Not really."

* * *

The day passed all too quickly, and soon it was time for the six friends to part ways.

"So where you headed after this?" Hank asked as he and Mike walked out to the back parking lot together.

"A guy that worked for me a couple years ago just got promoted to Captain with the FDNY, and he asked me to come and see his station." Mike answered.

"So you're going to New York?" Hank queried.

"Not right away." Mike answered. "I'll probably head up there next week."

"Hey," Hank said as both men approached their cars. "Send me an e-mail when you get to New York, okay?"

"Sure thing, Cap." Mike said. The two men had been close friends when they had worked together and had tried to keep in touch over the years.

As Hank watched Mike drive away, an odd sense of dread came over him, a kind of a sixth sense that told him that his former comrade was heading towards possible danger. He couldn't explain it.

_A/N: Okay, so I wanted to write the entire story in one chapter so I could post the whole thing today, on the 11th, but I realized it would have been too long that way, so it looks like I'm splitting it into chapters after all._


	2. It Begins

No one could have asked for a more perfect day in New York City than the morning of September 11, 2001. The sun was shining bright against the clear blue sky, looking down upon the city's inhabitants and many visitors.

One such visitor seemed to attract the sun's early morning light more than others. A man aged 60 years old, whose youthful smile and silent, dancing eyes made him look not unlike he had 30 years earlier, perhaps only a little grayer.

Mike Stoker strolled down the city sidewalks, taking in his surroundings. He was expected at the fire station in another hour, but he had a promise to keep first.

He finally spotted the place he was looking for. Entering the cyber café, he paid for ten minutes of internet time, then headed to the computer nearest him.

He logged into his e-mail account and began typing.

_Dear Cap, I just got to New York. It's a great place. I've seen a lot of interesting things. I'll be going to the fire station in a little while. I have to admit, though, that I'm a little uneasy here in this city. I can't explain it. Call it an old firefighting instinct, but I have a strange feeling that something big is going to happen today. Maybe it's just my imagination. Wish me luck either way._

_Your old pal, Mike_

He clicked 'Send' and logged off.

_So this is it, huh? _Mike stood outside the metropolitan fire station half an hour later. _Jesse's pretty lucky to get a place like this. Ah, There's Jesse now._

Captain Jesse Crill walked up to his own former captain and grasped his hand in a firm handshake "Hey, Mike. How ya doin'?"

"Pretty good." Mike replied. "Looks like you're doin' pretty good, too. How'd you wind up at this station anyway?"

"Apparently I came highly recommended." Jesse answered. "They said one of my former captains had a lot of good things to say about me. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Mike smiled innocently. "Maybe."

Jesse laughed. "Well, c'mon inside and you can meet my crew. Man, 'my crew'. I sure never thought I'd be sayin' that."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Mike grinned as the two men headed inside.

"Guys," Jesse announced, drawing the attention of his men. "I'd like you to meet Mike Stoker, my old Captain. I was a probie when I got assigned to his station. The first fire I went on, I screwed up big time—nearly got myself and three others killed. The chief on scene chewed me out, and I expected Mike here to do the same. When we got back to the station, he called me into his office…"

"_Crill, come in here for a minute." Came the firm, yet gentle order from the soft-spoken captain. Jesse's heart was pounding. It was coming, he knew it was coming._

_He walked slowly into Captain Stoker's office. Stoker motioned for him to shut the door. Jesse complied, terrified of another harsh reprimand like the one the chief had given him half an hour earlier on the scene._

"_Crill," Stoker began._

"_I know," Jesse said. "I screwed up big time. I don't think this job is gonna be right for me. I don't wanna risk anybody else's life 'cause I don't know what I'm doing."_

"_First off," Stoker continued quietly. "Do not interrupt me. Understood? Second, I didn't call you in here to tell you how much you messed up. The chief pretty much took care of that."_

_He leaned forward in his chair, regarding the newest addition to his crew across the wooden desk. "I called you in here to tell you this—everyone makes mistakes. Some don't matter much, and some can get people hurt or killed."_

_Jesse hung his head, ashamed. What Mike did next surprised Jesse. He reached across the desk and put his fingers under the probie's chin, raising the young man's head up to look him in the eyes._

"_What's important," Stoker said softly. "Is what you do with those mistakes. You can either learn from them, and move on and resolve to do better next time, or you can beat yourself up about it, and feel sorry for yourself, or even quit."_

_Mike's eyes narrowed. "And _nobody_ under _my_ command is a quitter, got it?"_

"_Yes, Captain."_

"I never forgot that." Jesse finished. "It gave me the confidence to take the Engineer's Test, and then more recently, the Captain's Test."

Jesse put his arm around Mike's shoulder. "If it weren't for this man here, I wouldn't be where I am now. I'd have given up and left the Department."

Before either man could say anything else, the alarm sounded. _Station 47, respond to structure fire, World Trade Center. Be advised two planes have hit the towers. Time out 09:05._

The crew swung into action. Mike followed. "I'm going along." he said. "You can't." Jesse started to protest. "You're retired."

"Try and stop me." Mike answered quickly. He grabbed an extra pair of turnouts from the rack and leaped onto the engine.

Jesse sighed and acknowledged the call, then joined his crew and former captain in the engine.

And then they were off.


End file.
